Perfect Fit (One Shot Edition)
by l0chn3ss
Summary: Following an accidental meeting, Maka and Soul must help keep the peace between their two warring gangs by pretending to be a loving couple. As their friendship outside of their unsavory relationship grows, Soul finds out that Maka has been waiting for someone to return to her side. Soul wonders if his misty childhood holds the key to this mystery. Nisekoi AU
1. Chapter 1

This is a collection of shorts set in a Nisekoi au by Flamedork, Mrsashketchum, and L0chn3ss.

Please be patient for the full upcoming multichapter fic.

 _"Following an accidental meeting of awkward proportions, Maka and Soul must help keep the peace between their two warring gangs by pretending to be a loving couple. As their friendship outside of their unsavory relationship grows, Soul finds out that Maka has been waiting for someone to return to her side. The only clue she has of their identity is a locket that she keeps hidden away at all times. As more and more potential candidates emerge, Soul wonders if his misty childhood holds the key to this mystery."_

Check out the tag "flamakness collab" on either one of the three collaborator's tumblr blogs for more works.


	2. Chapter 2

**"Eggsquisite Taste"**

To call out or to let be, that was the question.

He never found it necessary to be cautious of Maka, even when they hardly knew each other during their not-so-humble beginnings. Dignity… loyalty… those were traits that he knew they shared, retaining unshaken trust within each other to do the right thing for themselves and for their families. But when Maka committed the most ultimate form of betrayal- well, let's just say that Soul didn't know if he could ever regain his confidence in her ever again.

It was a clear Wednesday evening when she straightened out a flyer across her desk after they were done with their duties, Maka with her wushu club and Soul with his own mysterious after school activities. She'd demanded that he take her out on another outing that very night for dinner, a date as her retainer would be later informed, to a ramen shop's grand opening. Convenience was her weak excuse, but she sternly informed him that it was an easy walk in the same direction as home anyway.

Soul had to admit that the photographs seemed appetizing if not enticing to his rumbling belly. Playing the guitar in the school garden for his adoring woodland friends was not an easy task. He agreed to accompany her on the one condition that she paid, because who was the reason why he had to stay late at school all of the time anyway, hmm? He may as well receive compensation for his good behavior, especially when he'd unfailingly walked her home every single day since they started their little stunt.

"Fine," was her short, curt answer before reaching out her hand to hold his.

After they arrived to the stand, they purposefully took seats closest to the side where they could be seen by any watchful eyes. Every outing was like a show, a show that had one attendee whose name started with O and ended with X. Although Maka tried her best to convince her retainer otherwise, he insisted on enforcing Spirit's orders to tagging along to most (if not all) of their outing to maintain the couple's chastity- as if either of them willingly accepted their relationship in the first place.

Yeah, yeah. Keep prying, ya overprotective lap dog, Soul grumbled internally. He hoped Four-Eyes as at least spread enough news about their "dates" to the regular members of their households. And if he wasn't, then what was the point in forging a relationship between two rival gangs' heirs in the first place? Maka and Soul were doing it for their extended families' sakes, whether the members knew it or not.

In the depths of his thoughts, Soul hadn't registered the ramen bowl placed in front of him until he heard Maka's splitting chopsticks. Warm steam wafted into his face, and he took a deep, happy inhale of shio ramen. The fragrance lingered in his senses and his mouth began to water instantaneously. He carefully eyed the soaking seaweed paper at the edge of his bowl, reaching for his own chopsticks when there was sudden flash of beige coming from the side. A pair of unidentified chopsticks made a beeline for his boiled egg and snatched it from the soup with hardly a splash on the way.

He traced the action back in horror- right back to a Guilty McGuilty Guiltface. As a bead of soup ran down the side of her mouth, Maka put a hand over her swollen cheeks, hiding a shameful secret. Soul stared at her in disbelief, completely shocked that she had the audacity to- he took a deep breath.

"Maka, did you just... take my egg?"

"No," she said, muffled.

Soul took a second to let out another breath. "Bro..." He couldn't finish his sentence. A telling glance to Maka's bowl was all he needed to know that she had not one, but two egg halves stuffed in her cheeks, one for each pocket.

"I didn't do it."

"Ya. Ya, you just did. You fucking-" Insert deep breath. "Dude, it's in your mouth, like you're literally chewing it right now."

"No," she repeated, screwing the top section her face (from his very limited view) into a contorted form. Did she just swallow it? "No, it's not."

"Are you serious, Maka? You fucking with me, Maka? Did you just... snatch my egg… right out of my bowl?"

"No, no I didn't. Stop asking."

"Maka. Maka, I woulda just... given it to you, ya know."

A poignant silence sank into the air as Maka finally drew the courage to stare Soul dead into his eyes. He saw the faintest hint of embarrassment flash before it quickly faded away and was replaced by the growing determination to deny, deny, deny. This scandal… she was prepared to take it to the grave.

"Do…"

Soul echoed her poor attempt at a sentence in confusion. "Do?"

"Do you... want it back?" she finally mustered, squinting at him as if she'd issued a challenge.

"W… what the f- No! No, what the actual-"

Maka returned to her bowl, uncaring of his endless sputtering, gathering the noodles onto a spoon as if the entire ordeal never played out in the first place. She took a hearty slurp and tugged her stray bangs behind her ear. "Your ramen's getting cold," she said, pointing to it with her chopsticks, shutting him up effectively.

At the gesture, Soul reflectively pulled back his ramen and slid a protective arm to wall her away. He was shook; he felt like he just lost a battle he didn't know he was fighting.

Through the rest of the night, despite Maka's attempts to share her lotus roots and bamboo shoots, he kept a wary eye on her greedy food snatching hands. An unsuccessful attempt to snatch a bit of carrot resulted in another explosive argument that continued even after they left the stall. Eventually, they reached a state of civil discussion. On one hand, a meal she paid for rightfully belongs to her in every sense. And on the other, there was no other hand.

"Well darling," she puffed, "you should be happy to share your food with your cute girlfriend. How else would I know you like me?"

And so for the sake of their very fake relationship, Soul unwillingly relented, surrendering food privileges over to her metal fork. In return, she allowed access to her meals, but first pick would always be granted to the rightful owner of said meals. Soul didn't find out that later he would grow to accustomed to this strange gluttonous thievery. He may even encouraged it by spooning extra strawberries onto her side of the shared plate or scraping away the bits of cashews that he knew she had no preference for.

Despite this growing comfortable exchange, he could never really forget how it all began, and he never did receive the confession he'd been waiting to hear: that she was an actual chubby cheeked egg thief.

Happy Easter  
Flamakness

Written for SoMa Week 2017 Day 1 Confession


	3. Chapter 3

**"Intertwined"**

A day doesn't go by without a painful twinge of betrayal in Maka's heart. Every morning and every night, she forced herself to remember her mother through the unlikely help of her ribbons. Yes… those ribbons that she ties in her hair, the same ones that were carefully organized and tucked within her vanity in accordance to color, exquisite material, and size. There was no telling how long she'd had her old and growing collection, but she swore that she could remember every moment that she received them as if it were yesterday. In fact, a pair did come in with the grocery ads and the bills that were dropped onto the kitchen counter; it was another cashmere set from an exclusive brand and quite possibly only a few had ever been made in the world.

Laughable.

She clicked the drawer shut and finished brushing out her hair, remembering to set out the new pair beside her uniform in preparation for tomorrow. A sigh escaped her when she saw the stark contrast between the quality ribbons and her already high quality uniform, the latter paling in comparison when examined by a trained eye. _No matter_ , Maka thought, turning away in favor of hugging her pillow before collapsing into her covers.

In the coming morning, Soul singled her out in the crowd on her way to class. He pulled her behind the school where they had first met, the very place where he took two knees to the face, the very place he'd also spent hours searching for a pendant… He cleared his throat, looking a bit more shy and misplaced than usual. After a little bit of rambling, a couple of ' _oh geez_ ' and ' _um_ 's, he finally asked her to cover her eyes.

Maka was rather unimpressed, but followed suit anyway until he gave an exasperated groan, telling her to not _actually_ cover herself; he needed her hands. And so he corrected himself hastily and waited for her to execute his directions. Was she going to go down easily? Of course not. She cheekily went the long-about way of every step, triggering a short-lived bicker between them which ended with her submission.

She wasn't pleased though, and of course she would become wary if anyone just told her to undo her hair, hold out her hands, close her eyes. But the initial touch on her fingertips, the way the smooth fabric cascaded into her waiting palm, the fall of the last strand that slipped over her wrist… it could've only meant one thing. Maka peeked under her eyelashes in anticipation and noticed the bright, solid red immediately; it resembled Soul's matching blush to her own. A swell of tears gathered, threatening to fall, and her arms flew around him in a tight embrace...how else could she have reacted to his gift?

It was another pair of ribbons that made their way into her life, yet this time, it was presented properly without a stamp or a cold letter from ever-changing names of interns. They were bold, and plain, and thick, and coarsely made by untrained hand- _his_ untrained hands from what his sputtering was about. He continued through her hug, air escaping much faster than it was re-entering, his cheeks turning redder and redder.

Maka released him, laughing at his silliness and masking her own bashful emotions that she didn't know how to deal with. She'd never gotten a response as strong as this one from a present that she'd received a plethora of times before. But these smiles and these tears of joy, they spilt over happily, _willingly_.

He urged her to stop crying, that she was making it more weird than it needed to be. And that comment was what she needed to break out of her bliss, shooting him down with a sassy remark that she hoped was in character. She wasn't sure that she kept her giddiness from her voice properly though. At least he didn't notice, too distracted by the ribbons. Soul hesitated for a moment, setting his mouth in a line and squaring his shoulders as if readying for a war.

"Turn around," Soul said, helping her along with a gentle push until the back of her head was facing him.

He tugged the ribbons from her grip, muttering something about how he knew she liked wearing them so often. It felt like an appropriate gift, he continued to reason, as if he needed one to give her anything at all. She felt his hands run softly through part of her hair, untangling a few of the strands slowly to not hurt her, gathering the rest in his palm to pull up into a rough ponytail, and finishing it off with a little bow.

The idea was pitched somehow by someone. All the materials were gathered through a group effort; one thing contributed by each friend in their little group. Finally, Ox lent Soul his sewing machine and taught him the basics before letting him off on his own. It was a collaboration of a sort, he said firmly, making sure that there was no question about it in her mind.

But she knew the hidden truth that he desperately tried to hide, unable to stop smiling as he gave her back the extra pair that he hadn't used. He was sweeter than most men, more humble and caring than most people on top of that. Soul wasn't a brag though, and that may have been a trait that she wished he had. Perhaps that way, she could find out more about him from his own mouth.

Miraculously, they were saved by the bell that signaled the start of their class. They bolted hand in hand to their session, tugging and pulling at each other until they reached the door. Together, the false couple entered out of breath and endured the teasing of their friends and classmates.

"It wasn't like that," Soul growled, taking his seat.

She sat down her own next to him, still a little flushed from their run. The ribbon was safely wrapped around her hand where it stayed for the rest of her day.

During that same night as she undid her hair, Maka laid out the red cloth out on her vanity as she always did. However this time, she lingered just a beat longer than she normally would, tracing the uneven seams with her nail. _They were cute_ , she said aloud. _Well, rudimentary at best_ , she corrected in the same breath. She decided to leave them out for the night, figuring that it would take too long for her to find a place for them within her organized system.

Still, she remembered to put away the new ribbons that she'd received the day before. The others that were so shiny and luminous and soft. What did they look like again? She pulled them out of her skirt pocket, rubbing the cashmere with her thumb. As she suspected, they felt nothing like the cheap red ones that held her hair up all day. There was no comparison to be made; one was clearly superior than the other.

She scoffed slightly and moved to place her mother's package items into their rightful place in her drawer among the other neatly rolled ones. Tomorrow was when she would choose the next ones to wear, jumping onto her bed and digging her face into her pillows. It was too late in the night for that now.

And come tomorrow, she begrudgingly tied Soul's red ribbons back into her hair.

It was a late morning, she swore to no one in particular.

Written for SoMa Week 2017 Day 3 Clothes


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